


Blame It On The Tetons

by apples4ryuk



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Hiddlesworth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:46:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apples4ryuk/pseuds/apples4ryuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone lets it slip that Tom could play guitar; and lo and behold, he can sing, too! Thrown into an uncomfortable situation, the Brit has no choice but to appease his fellow cast members.</p>
<p>But there's only one person's approval that he cares about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame It On The Tetons

**Author's Note:**

> I have this Hiddlesworth headcanon where all the cast is gathered, at one of their houses, and they all want Tom to sing. I know he can sing and I think I’ve heard he can play guitar, so I figured that might go hand in hand. Miraculously, they’re at Scarlett’s, and she just-so-happens to have an acoustic guitar handy, and they all beg and plead Tom to sing.
> 
> So although he’s shy and embarrassed and self-conscious, he does, because he loves to please people and how can he say no when they’re all asking him to do it?
> 
> Then he notices while singing that Chris is just staring at him. The rest of the cast has their eyes closed and some of them drift off while the others listen intently, but Chris, he’s just watching Tom. His beer is long forgotten as he focuses completely on Tom, on his guitar playing and on his singing.
> 
> And there’s a moment between them where Chris is encouraging Tom and Tom feels like that’s really all he needs. Chris’ encouragement. His approval. And he’s not so embarrassed or self-conscious anymore.
> 
> Que really fluffy ending, and you guys should really listen to this song. It’s kind of old (as in it’s a few years old) but it’s beautiful.

They were all at Scarlett’s rented-out house for the night. It had been a long day of shooting and some things got pushed back in the schedule, but overall, they had done fairly well. Most of the scenes that day were finished within a few takes. All of them had needed some time to relax, and they were all family for the next few months anyway, so Scarlett invited them over for drinks; nothing special, just some downtime.

Most of main cast were there: both Chris’s, Robert, Scarlett – of course, it was her house – Jeremy, Samuel L. Jackson stopped by for a while, and Tom, too. Mark had stayed for a little bit but he promised his kids that he’d play with them early the next morning and had to leave to get some sleep. They all sent their love to his children when he left.

Some of the crew were there too; Joss, definitely, and the producers and writers, though most of them had left early as well. Joss always had fun with the whole entire cast. They swore he could have pursued a career in acting if he wanted to, or any role in the film business, for that matter. The man was amazing at almost anything.

By now, late into the evening, someone had let it slip that Tom knew how to play guitar, having heard him play in his trailer once – and another person piped up and mentioned that he could sing, too, and of course, Tom was blushing and embarrassed and wondered how it could possibly be that Scarlett just-so-happened to own an acoustic guitar.

“Come on, Tom, play for us,” Joss encouraged, sipping at his beer. “We won’t make fun, right, guys?”

“I dunno, playing guitar is pretty deep – I didn’t take Loki to be that type of guy, honestly,” Jeremy said with a laugh. “He’s more, ‘Bow down to me, mortals!’ Ya know?”

Chris – Hemsworth, that is – punched Jeremy lightly on the shoulder. “If you don’t keep your mouth shut, Hawkeye, Tom might just not play for us,” he said.

“Yeah, shut it,” Scarlett added with a playful grin. Her attention turned to Tom. “Come on, Tom, please? For us?”

And then they all were pouting at him with hopeful eyes and really, how could he say no? He’d do anything at this point just to get them to stop staring. With a quiet sigh, he picked up the acoustic guitar and tuned it accordingly, strumming it lightly before he easily chose a song.

“What’s it called?” Chris Evans had asked.

“Blame It On the Tetons, by Modest Mouse,” Tom replied, “Now hush.”

The song started out very quietly, nothing but the sound of Tom’s fingers on the strings filling the air, but when he sang his voice was low and deep and almost everyone in the room got shivers from the sound.

_Blame it on the Tetons_  
Yeah, I need a scapegoat now.  
No, my dog won’t bite you  
Though it had the right to.  
You ought to give her credit  
‘Cause she knows I would’ve let it happen. 

The tightness in Tom’s shoulders eased, just a bit, when his eyes glanced over the group, all of whom were facing him. Their eyes were shut as they let their ears take in the beautiful mixture of his voice and the soft strumming of the guitar strings.

_Blame it on the weekends,_  
God I need a cola now.  
Oh we mumble loudly,  
Wear our shame so proudly.  
Wore our blank expressions,  
Trying to look interesting.  
Blame it on me ‘cause,  
God I need a cold one now. 

As he continued to play, his eyes found Chris’ – Hemsworth, both of his hands clutching tightly onto the bottle of beer between his knees. He was on the edge of his seat, his eyes staring dead into Tom’s. The Brit felt something bubble in his chest and he found himself blushing, trying to force the heat on his cheeks to cool as he looked away.

But when he opened his mouth to sing again, he looked over at Chris. The Australian just smiled at him and nodded.

_All them eager actors gladly take the credit,_  
For the lines created by the people  
Tucked away from sight  
Is just a window from the room we’re bound to.  
If you find a way out, oh would you just let me know how?  
Would you just let me know how? 

His eyes met Chris’ again. The baby blues were filled with admiration and he knew he heard him chuckle a little at the bit about actors taking all the credit. Tom couldn’t find a reason why he wouldn’t smile at that, either, so he returned Chris’ grin and suddenly became more confident. The others, whether they had opened their eyes or were still listening or passed out, they didn’t matter as much anymore; it’s like they weren’t there. Tom held Chris’ gaze as he continued singing.

It was as if only the two of them existed.

_Blame it on the web but_  
The spider’s your problem now.  
Language is the liquid  
That we’re all dissolved in.  
Great for solving problems,  
After it creates a problem.  
Blame it on the Tetons,  
God I need a scapegoat now. 

His voice sounded raspy and low and rough to his ears, but as he stopped singing, he returned his attention to the guitar on his thighs and happily strummed away. His slender fingers plucked the wiry, plastic strings almost expertly, though it’s not as if Chris had any indication of that. Still, Tom felt the Australian’s eyes on him, felt the love and admiration and God knows what else the man emanated toward him.

His smile returned when he looked up to find Chris’ intent gaze still on him, giving him all the encouragement he could ever need.

_Everyone’s a building burning_  
With no one to put the fire out.  
Standing at the window looking out,  
Waiting for time to burn us down.  
Everyone’s an ocean drowning,  
With no one really to show how  
They might get a little better air  
If they turned themselves into a cloud. 

His voice faded away and he focused completely on playing the guitar, eyebrows scrunched as he strove for that perfection. Yes, his profession was acting, but if he was going to perform like this for his friends, his film family, he wanted it to be perfect; most of all, for Chris.

The Australian never took his gaze off of Tom as the man finished the song. The sounds from the strings faded out just as Tom’s voice had, softly drawing the rest of the cast and crew out of their near-slumber.

“Wow,” Robert commented.

“Loki’s not such a bad singer,” Jeremy joked, stretching out one arm while he bent the other over his face to cover up his yawn. “Think I’m gonna hit the sack, guys. You put me to sleep with your angelic voice.”

Tom snorted, rubbing underneath his nose abashedly. Everyone exchanged goodnights until only Tom and Chris were left.

Tom placed the acoustic guitar in a corner of the living room and grabbed his coat from the rack. “Need a lift?” Chris asked. He had been on his tail since the man had gotten up from the couch.

Tom offered a smile when he replied, “Yeah, sure. You okay driving?”

“Yeah,” Chris said. “I actually never got to finish that beer. Was too mesmerized by… Well, you.”

Tom bit his bottom lip, facing the ground to hide his smile. They reached Chris’ car in a few minutes; it was parked down the street because the Australian had arrived late, as usual, and all the closer parking spots were already taken. Chris placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder before the man got a chance to reach for the door handle.

“Really, mate,” Chris said, his voice close to a whisper. Tom looked questioningly at him, not ignoring the fact that Chris had come much closer than Tom was used to. “That was the most beautiful, serene, amazing – it was, it was just…. Well, I s’pose Jeremy got it right. It was angelic, it was, really. I can’t think if any other way to describe it.”

Tom exhaled, a little shakily, refusing to meet Chris’ eyes until the Aussie took his chin and lifted it up. Tom licked his lips, his blue eyes mirroring the complete mirth that was evident in his companion’s fixed stare.

He didn’t really register what was happening next until he finally found himself pulling away. Chris, his hand still threaded in Tom’s dark brown curls, raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to apologize.

“Chris, I, we can’t, I mean…” He stopped rambling and frowned at the look of disappointment on his friend’s face. The man’s grip on his hair loosened until Tom felt the warm spark of his fingertips on the back of his neck.

“Ah, sorry, mate, I just uh… Got caught in the moment, is all.”

Chris took two steps back and shoved his hands in his coat pockets. He let out a breath of air and kicked a rock on the ground, watching it as it rolled across the black pavement. “Suppose we should get going,” the Aussie said. Tom let out a sigh and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Chris’ neck. His long fingers found the small band that tied the bulkier man’s hair up and pulled it out, his free hand tangling itself in the soft blond locks.

“Sorry, Chris,” he breathed out, leaning forward to press his dry lips against Chris’. Tom groaned, softly, when Chris pulled him closer, hugging him tight and gently prying open his lips. Chris’ tongue was soft and warm and faintly tasted like the dark beer he’d been drinking earlier in the night, but Tom didn’t find it so distasteful. He grinned against Chris’ mouth when the slightly younger man sighed into the kiss and pressed Tom against the side of his car, his knee parting Tom’s legs. The Brit broke the kiss, his head falling back and eyes sliding shut at the sudden need for more friction.

“I’ve got that house,” Chris breathed on Tom’s neck. His breath was wonderfully warm and the kisses he left on Tom’s exposed throat sent jolts of pleasure throughout his entire body. “It’s about a half hour away, but, we’ll have it all to ourselves.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tom said with a smile, bringing his head back down to admire Chris’ handsomeness.

“Maybe you could play me a few more songs,” he added in a whisper, brushing a loose curl away from Tom’s forehead. The man in front of him chuckled, blushing madly, but he nodded nonetheless. If Tom’s singing and guitar playing was what it took, he’d do it for Chris. Anything for him.

So they drove off into the night until they got to Chris’ temporary home, and stayed up until the earliest hours of the morning. They talked for what seemed like eternity, and Tom sang some more, and they made slow, passionate love, falling asleep in each other’s arms until the loud ringing of a phone woke them from their peaceful sleep.

Everyone was wondering where they were, and there was much shouting and it seemed as if everything from the night before had been forgotten. But Tom didn’t let that get him down. He arrived on set with Chris, nodding through the lectures of the producers who really tried not to yell at either of them, though they failed miserably at it.

While Tom’s singing may have been nothing more than a nice lullaby for most of the cast and crew, Tom knew better. He knew he got something out of it. He knew that things may not have changed on set, but when he was with Chris, God…

Tom decided that night he’d never stop singing for him. Ever.


End file.
